Casper and Cheyenne: Before they were Vespers
by Goth Bookworm
Summary: Ever wondered what life was like for these siblings before the Vespers found them? What was life for them? What is the story behind them, their lives, and their pasts? Rated T for slight violence, possible swearing, and injuries. For JesseCPK's contest.
1. Running away

**Okay, this is for JesseCPK's contest.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own 39 Clues. If I did, do you think that I would be writing on FanFiction? Don't answer that.**

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"Idiot." Cheyenne grumbled.

"Smarty-pants." Casper threw back at her.

"Muscle-bound dumbo." She muttered.

"Weakling who hits like a girl." Her brother mumbled.

"Hey!" Cheyenne protested. "You're just jealous. You know, you could hit like a girl, too, if you hit a bit harder!"

Where were they? Handcuffed to each other in the back of a police car. And still fighting.

"I don't see you winning daily fights!" Casper muttered.

"That's because I'm smarter than that!" his sister put in.

Of course, they didn't mean it. No matter how many times Cheyenne would threaten to strangle her brother, or Casper say that he'd break her arm, they never meant it. How could they? Each other was all they had left. Their parents were off to prison, and no family was willing to step in and help. So they survived on the streets. Thieving, robbery, shoplifting. But they didn't get a job. After all, why work when they could steal?

Casper needed his sister. Cheyenne needed her brother. It was as simple as that. They balanced each other out. Cheyenne tended to be the more rational one, the one who didn't blow up at an insult. In other words, she was the brains of the duo. Casper was usually the brash one, the one who was a ticking bomb ready to explode. He was the muscles.

Together, they were already wanted in seven states and running from an eighth.

The car stopped at a traffic light. The twins locked eyes. 'Let's try it.' Casper seemed to say.

Cheyenne shook her head slightly. 'Too dangerous.'

'But this could be our only chance!' Casper begged with his eyes.

Cheyenne narrowed her ice-blue eyes, so similar to her brother's. 'We'd need disguises.' Her eyes seemed to say.

Casper's matching eyes narrowed devilishly. Cheyenne allowed a small, grim, smile to touch her lips. They were now 14. They had been on the run since they were 10. And they had made a lot of . . . friends.

Outlaws, fellow fugitives, runaways, thieves and pickpockets. They had been right up there with the rest of them.

Cheyenne and Casper locked eyes. Almost simultaneously, they reached for the blades they kept in their pockets. Only one arm each was handcuffed, so carefully, as not to alert the cops in the front seat, they unbuckled their seat belts.

Casper reached for his door. Cheyenne noticed this, and gave a subtle shake of her head. The left lane was farther away from the sidewalks. Casper nodded and carefully scooted closer to Cheyenne.

Cheyenne put her hand on the handle—and leaped out. She and Casper ran across two lanes of stopped traffic. The cops were after them. But they were free. As soon as their feet touched the silver cement of the sidewalk, the light turned green.

And all the policemen could do was watch helplessly as the twins walked away from the street.

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**First of all: The twins may seem a bit OOC, but this was before the Vespers got to them. I haven't read Shatterproof yet, much to my chagrin, so no spoilers in reviews. Thank you!**


	2. Handcuffs

**Next chapter is up!**

**Please, review, guys.**

**Disclaimer: 39 Clues . . . I own a most of the books, but not the series. *cries, running away hysterically***

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Casper gritted his teeth. And one last time, Cheyenne wiggled the blade inside of her lock. It popped open. And she turned to her brother. The cop had tightened the handcuffs too much, and had been chafing harshly against their skin.

It was bad enough for Cheyenne with her slender wrists, but Casper had much bigger wrists than she did. The skin had started bleeding after five minutes of weaving through the streets of Los Angeles, California.

Carefully, as to not jostle the cuffs too much, she wiggled the end of her blade in the lock. They held their breaths. Seconds passed. And carefully, Cheyenne moved the blade slightly down. It popped open, and Cheyenne got a good look at Casper's wrist.

She immediately wished she hadn't. The skin was red, slick with blood. One patch of skin had been completely ripped away, and had deep gouges. Cheyenne looked up, her ice-cold eyes for once showing some worry.

He was the only one who cared about her. She was the only one who cared about him. "If it gets infected, Casper . . ." her voice trailed off. She stood up. "Come on, bro. Let's find someplace to stay."

The Wyomings glanced carefully at their packs. Each pack held two changes of clothes, an iPhone and charger they had stolen, two false identities each, gum, a water bottle, money and a credit card, a dagger each, a medical kit, a clothesline, and a lock-picking kit. Concealed within various parts of their clothing was another dagger and Swiss Army knife. Cheyenne also had a roll of duct tape, and Casper had a rope.

Those packs were their lifeline. Cheyenne spotted a Seven Eleven across the street. "Come on." She said, and gingerly pulled down Casper's sleeve. Grabbing his hand, she pulled him towards the crosswalk. Casper said nothing, but his jawline tensed slightly.

As they walked into the store, the cashier barely looked up. That was good. They had to blend in . . . or they would lose each other. Casper's eyes widened slightly. There was a bathroom!

Cheyenne cocked her head subtly towards the restroom. They both entered, not even fazed by the smell. Cheyenne dropped her pack on the floor. Casper did the same.

Carefully digging through the contents, Cheyenne held up the medical kit. Casper ran his wrist under cold, then warm water. Cheyenne did the same. After applying some disinfectant, she wrapped the gauze around her twin's wrist.

Then, quickly but efficiently, she replaced the kit and walked out of the door, Casper in tow.

Casper winced. They would have to find somewhere to sleep. But for now, they needed food. And a trip to the nearest Sports Authority.

Cheyenne scanned the rows of drinks, looking for a drink that would fit their budget. She finally selected two large bottles of Sprite and water. Pulling out a five-dollar bill, she paid the cashier and carefully counted in the change.

And they headed to the nearest grocery store. Trader Joes.

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**Hope you liked it! REVIEW!**

**Also: If you like Amian, go look at "I saw you again in the countryside"please.**

**Anyways, review and I will try to update.**


	3. Food

**Wow. Three chapters in ONE day. I'm on a roll! Don't expect updates during the week. I have stuff to do.**

**Disclaimer: I would say I owned the 39 Clues, but I'd be lying.**

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Cheyenne sifted through the fruit. Casper was getting ready to plant a smoke bomb in the restrooms. Meanwhile, they had stuffed gum, fruit, and sandwiches in their pockets. Cheyenne had also taken the liberty to go through a couple cash registers and taken some money.

Casper came up to her. "Come on." He said. "It's going off in a minute."

She nodded. Casper snagged a bag of apples. It was her turn to urge him on. "Come on."

Just as they reached the door, a small 'BOOM' came from the restrooms. A sprinkler dropped and water began spraying, out of control.

Casper and Cheyenne bolted. Alarms began blaring. And the twins had food. After about twenty blocks of running, the stopped in a small playground and ate.

Even Cheyenne shoveled food into her mouths as fast she could. Their reason? They'd been on the run for a while, and when you're on the run, you never know when your next meal is going to be, or how long you have to eat safely.

Cheyenne and Casper finished. There was a long silence, and then . . . Casper burped.

"Casper!" Cheyenne said, an almost-scolding tone in her voice.

"What?" her brother asked innocently.

Cheyenne facepalmed herself.

Casper grinned cheekily. All of a sudden, his smile dropped. "Cheyenne. The cops are here."

Cheyenne's eyes widened. Slowly, almost non-perceptively she tipped her watch so she could look at the reflection. Then she began to stand up with the pack. She made sure that all of the trash was where it needed to be, and started strolling casually towards the other direction.

Casper followed her, looking at his own watch. "Turn right." He muttered. They steered to the right, going off onto a smaller path.

They broke into a fast walk. They would run when they had to, but just then, they needed to get away from the cops. And then a cop appeared behind them and yelled, "Stop right there!"

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**MUAHAHAH!**

**Cliffhanger! Review if you want to find out what happens . . .**


	4. Lies

**Hey guys!**

**Posting . . . I was typing this while I was supposed to be typing up an essay. Oh, the things I do for you guys. :P**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 39 Clues.**

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They froze at the voice. The cop looked at them. "You're not in trouble, kids. This is just private property. Where are your parents?"

Cheyenne found her voice. "Our parents are currently in Wyoming. We're staying at our grandparents' house until our mom and dad get their divorce filed and we know who we're staying with. You know, custody over the kids and all that junk. Grandma and grandpa are just going to get some stuff from the car because I have volleyball and he has baseball after this."

It was one of those half-truth sort of things. Their parents were in a jail in Wyoming, filing a long-delayed divorce, and their grandparents had lived in Los Angeles when they were younger, until Cheyenne and Casper had turned eight years old, when they . Cheyenne had played volleyball for a while, and Casper had been the best hitter on his baseball team.

She just conveniently left out the little details. After all, they were insignificant.

The cop's facial expression morphed into sympathy and pity. Cheyenne hated it at once. "Oh, you poor kids." His tone turned apologetic. "But this is private property. I'm afraid you kids are not allowed to be here."

Casper looked around. "Where's grandpa? He should be back by now."

Cheyenne rolled her eyes, playing up to the charade. "Oh, jeez. Grandpa probably can't open the car trunk or something again. Come on, Rupert, let's go help him. Do you think he lost the keys?" she took off running.

Casper (or Rupert) followed her. "Jeez, Jess, wait up!" the cop stared confusedly after them, shrugged, and walked away.

Let's pause for a moment. Casper and Cheyenne couldn't well go under their real names. After all, there can only be so many Cheyenne and Casper Wyomings in the country, let alone twin Casper and Cheyenne's. So they had fake names. It was easy enough. The problem was their looks. They needed disguises.

Casper caught up to Cheyenne. "Jeez. Rupert?"

Cheyenne shrugged. "It was all I could think of at the moment."

Casper rolled his eyes. "Whatever. We need to get some hair dye. Two blond twins, roughly fourteen years old? Not that hard to find. Come on . . . Jess. Do you want to be a brownie, a redhead, or a raven-hair?"

Cheyenne looked thoughtfully at her fraternal twin. "I always wanted to have raven-black hair." She mused out loud, imagining herself with black hair.

Casper grinned. "And to steal some hair dye we go!" he looked at his twin. "I call being a brownie!"

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**Hmm . . . Who wants a special guest appearance?**

**Your choices:**

**Alistair Oh: Hope Cahill: Arthur Trent: Grace Cahill: Fiske Cahill: Isabel/Vikram Kabra: Eisenhower/Mary Todd Holt**

**Remember, this is about seven years before the clue hunt (ten years before Cahills vs. Vespers), so Hamilton, Ian, and Amy should all have been born already, and all of the younger kids, too. Take your pick!**

**Review, and I shall update!**


	5. Disguises

**Sorry!**

**I'm so sorry! School was messed up. Future updates will be on weekends or holidays.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The 39 Clues. **

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Casper and Cheyenne entered. Cheyenne made a beeline for the wigs and other hair products. Casper went to go look at some of the clothing. He reached for the ninja costume.

Cheyenne slapped his hand away. "We'll get clothes at Sports Authority, Casper."

Casper pouted. "But I like that ninja costume!"

Cheyenne rolled her eyes. "Little brothers."

"Hey!" Casper protested. "You were born, like, thirty-four seconds before I was!"

"I'm still older. Let's go look at the wigs."

A middle-aged lady appeared in front of them, smiling a too-fake smile. "How may I help you?" she asked, looking so sweet Cheyenne wanted to hurl.

"We're having a jump-start on Halloween costume shopping." she told her. "We already have the clothing, but we still need a hair dye or a wig. And . . ." Cheyenne hesitated. "You wouldn't happen to sell any fake tattoos, would you? Something that will stay on for a while but isn't permanent, and looks realistic."

The lady smiled brightly . . . too brightly. After all, she was a saleswoman. They were born to please, be chipper, and smile.

Well, that's what she thinks. She turned to Casper. "Rupert, can you go look at the wigs and hair dye? Remember, I want to have black hair. And you're supposed to have brown. Is that clear?"

He rolled his eyes. "Sure . . . Jess."

Cheyenne groaned. "It's Jessica!" She called after him, and then followed the weird lady towards the tattoos. She chose one where you could tattoo your name, and another one that said, "Don't X me" or in other words, "Don't cross me"

She hesitated. They didn't have much money, and that was only to be used in emergencies. So she said, "I need to go see what Rupert is doing."

The lady spotted another customer and ran towards them, distractedly saying, "Of course, take your time!"

She hurried back to Casper, who was trying on a wig. "Does this wig make my nose look fat?" he asked.

"Casper!" Cheyenne sighed, exasperated.

"What?" he asked innocently.

She facepalmed herself. "Casper, all it needs to be is believable."

He shrugged. "So I can't look hot at the same time?"

Cheyenne sighed. "Fine. Grab the stuff, and let's browse the hats . . . you know, the ones right next to the door?"

Casper grinned. "let's go look at some hats for Cheyenne!" he sang out, grabbing a wig, hair dye, and some glasses.

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**There!**

**Review, guys! Thanks!**


	6. Grace

**SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY! AHH!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the awesomeness that is the Wyomings. Or the 39 Clues.**

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"Casper!" Cheyenne hissed furiously. "Eyes on the prize!"

"The door. It's a door." Casper said.

"But it's our only way out!" Cheyenne protested.

Casper narrowed his eyes. "And?"

Cheyenne punched his arm. "Idiot." She grumbled crossly.

"You know you love me." Casper said cheekily.

Cheyenne's eyes widened. "Now!" she hissed, tugging on his arm. Casper rolled his eyes, but sprinted out the door. All of a sudden, there was a loud blaring sound.

A cop came and stood in front of them. "Casper and Cheyenne Wyoming, you are under arrest for robbery, break-in, and destruction of property.

The twins looked around wildly. All of a sudden, Cheyenne shouted, "Casper, run!"

Casper ran. He knew that Cheyenne would come . . . right?

He stopped after a couple blocks, leaning against the tree trunk and breathing harshly. There was the sound of footsteps behind him. He grinned. It was Cheyenne, catching up.

"Ha!" he said. "Cheyenne—"

He stopped. Because it wasn't Cheyenne. It was an old lady—who wasn't exactly an old hobble-on-a-stick lady. Because she was wearing a tracksuit. A black and white tracksuit with an M on the front. Weird? Weird.

And then she spoke in this rich, fluent voice. "Hello, Casper. My name is Grace Cahill."

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**Short, I know. But I'll be updating the other chapters I couldn't update because my account was funky tomorrow, day after, and day after, etc. So... don't hurt me?**

**Bye! *runs away from angry readers***


	7. Ninja Skills

***sigh* I caved. I'm updating now, rather than later. Thank me, don't hurt me.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the awesomeness that is the Wyomings. Or the 39 Clues.**

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She was alone. She had sent him away, for his own good. He would survive. He had a pack, and they had friends.

But she was alone. Of course, she had been for most of her life. But for most of her life, she had Casper. Her twin.

But as she sat on the cold bench, gazing forlornly at her pack, which they had gone through, checking for dangerous stuff, she knew that she had done the right thing. Because he was still safe.

Grace Cahill was an old woman. But that didn't stop her. As she jogged after the boy, she glanced at the pictures in her hand wistfully. Amy and Dan were so young when it happened. She remembered it. The night that her daughter and son-in-law died.

It had been Isabel Kabra's fault.

No, she couldn't afford to speak like that. She was a Madrigal, and Madrigals had to keep the peace.

She sighed. The boy was a potential target and recruit, for Vespers and Cahills alike. So was the girl.

Her eyes furrowed sadly. The girl. She was the smart one, apparently. Her brother was the muscle, the brawn. He was still smart, and both were a force to be reckoned with.

More lives would be turned upside down by the end of the day. She knew it.

Casper looked at her menacingly. "What do you want, lady?"

The woman chuckled at him. "Call me Grace. I'm here to help. I may not have a magic wand, but I have keys and some serious ninja skills."

Hm. She used words like 'ninja skills.' There may be hope. He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. Prove it."

Grace—it was weird to just think the name—assumed a fighting stance, ran up a tree, and snapped a branch with her left hand, then did a one-hand somersault and landed, both feet on the ground, a large stick in her hand.

She raised an eyebrow. "Is that enough proof for you?"

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**Go Grace! There... happy? I have like, 4 more chapters that I didn't post. I'll do them tomorrow. For now, I need to finish my SS HW, which I should've been working on anyways... :P**


	8. All Alone

**Hehe. Sorry? I forgot to update yesterday... but Christmas break has started! *happy dance***

**Disclaimer: I do not own the awesomeness that is the Wyomings. Or the 39 Clues.**

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As she inspected her fingernails, Cheyenne let out a big sigh. She gazed out through the small window. She glanced at the bench. Maybe . . .

No. They had confiscated her Swiss Army knife. But . . .

If the guards at the door had been paying attention, they would've said that a certain mischievous entered her eye. But they weren't so they didn't notice how her gaze snaked up to the window, to the bench, and to the guards, and then all over again.

After all, she was only fourteen years old. And she was a girl. How much damage could one girl cause?

Unfortunately for them, they forgot to add in duct tape and multi-tools to the equation. So let's ask again. How much damage could one girl with duct-tape, a multi-tool, and a heavy backpack cause?

Lots.

Casper gaped at her. She didn't mind. Most people didn't expect an old lady to be able to do major ninja tricks. Unless they knew Grace Cahill.

With her, anything was possible.

That wasn't possible. Casper desperately rubbed his eyes. She was still there.

He sighed. His twin sister had been arrested, and he had met this weird psycho-ninja lady in a black and white tracksuit. His world couldn't be turned more upside down.

At least, that's what he thought. And then . . . it started to hail. In New York. In the middle of th summer. At twelve o'clock in the afternoon.

Now it couldn't be anymore worse. But as he gazed up at the sky and the falling ice, he miserably thought, 'I wish Cheyenne was here.'

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**I don't believe in long author notes. I really don't. So, let me keep this short: MY MATH AND ENGLISH TEACHERS GAVE ME HOMEWORK! Over _break_.**

**-.- So annoyed. No matter. Review! Then I won't accidentally forget about this story!**


	9. Anything

**cattycahill, thanks for reminding me. I forgot. *facepalm***

**Disclaimer: I do not own the awesomeness that is the Wyomings. Or the 39 Clues.**

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She groaned, "Can I please go to the bathroom?"

The two guards looked at each other. Finally one of them stepped back and opened the door. "Come on, kid."

She grinned in victory. And then she doubled over, pretending to be in pain. The guards watched uncertainly, not knowing what to do. She was a fugitive, sure, but she was a fourteen-year old girl.

One of them hesitantly walked behind her, ready to help. And then…Cheyenne somersaulted and kicked him in the gut, sprang up and punched the other guy in the nose. They looked at her from opposite ends of the room, and ran at her. at the last second, Cheyenne pulled away, leaving the guards to bash their heads together.

They crumpled to the ground. Cheyenne dusted off her hands, allowing herself to give a self-satisfactory smile.

It was amazing how much one could learn from the Holts.

Casper was desperate. The old lady reminded him of the family that had taken them in the first couple years on the run. Trying to stay strong and tough, yet sometimes letting a small glimpse of their feelings shine through. He sighed. He missed them. Cheyenne, his parents, the Holts—who had been the family that they should have had—all of them.

The old lady was studying him carefully. "You are one half of those who my cousins took in?"

"Huh?" he oh-so-intelligently asked her.

"The Holts." She replied. Casper looked at her. she didn't look anything like the muscle-bound family. Grace smiled. "Distant cousins." She explained.

He nodded. He still didn't get how she would be able to help. After all, she was an old lady. Albeit an old lady with ninja moves, but still an old lady.

But she had ninja moves. There might be hope.

Grace looked at him. "Casper Wyoming, do you want my help or not?"

"I…" Casper hesitated, and made a decision. "Yes."

She turned abruptly on the heel and began walking. "Come on, Casper."

She didn't say it in an imposing way, but a friendly tone that Hamilton would've used with him…Hamilton…he was a good kid. Strong, but smarter than most of his family.

And Madison and Reagan, the twins. They had just been born when he and Cheyenne had left….

Cheyenne. She was still in trouble. And like it or not, the old lady was his only option. So he followed her. She hailed a cab and they rode in an awkwardly comfortable silence, if that's even possible. That's when Casper started to realize that outside was beginning to look familiar. The Holts.

He was hit with a wave of nostalgia. Déjà vu. Whatever you want to call it. The last time he had been here, he was riding a taxi cab out of the area. With his sister. To lose themselves.

Now, his was riding back to the area. With an old lady. To find his sister.

He gazed out the window. Cheyenne was gone….and she needed help. And he would do anything to get her back. Anything.

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**Urgh... short, I know. But if someone reviews, maybe I'll post the next chapter tomorrow! (also, it'll prevent me from forgetting. Again, thanks, Catty!)**


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